Devil in the Details
by figtickler
Summary: Cerberus' constant manipulation, disappearing colonies and conflicting personalities are welcome distractions. After two years, Garrus and Shepard hope to put the past behind them but it keeps reemerging in unlikely places. ME2 fic, lots of off-canon. FShep/Garrus and others. M for coarse language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Text in _:::Italics and semicolons are memories::: _Thank you to my great beta, Dr. Girlfriend!

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Gunfire exploded from across the bridge. All of the ammo missed the turian by an embarrassing amount. Young men and women scuttled over the barrier and rushed toward the base, simultaneously arguing with each other about who would take point. Chuckling, Garrus looked through the scope, took aim and fired off a shot. With a satisfying crunch, it entered and exited the head of the mercenary in the lead. His companions froze as his body fell in a heap in front of them. For a moment they remained where they were and slowly looked to the other. Garrus cleared his throat to help them along and they dashed away in the opposite direction.

_I'm a little bored dealing with amateurs,_ Garrus thought as he released the heat capsule from his rifle.

He reloaded and directed his scope down toward the warehouse floor. Dozens of bloody forms were strewn on the ground from the barrier across the bridge to the entrance. The bodies of a few of his former companions lay just below him, covered neatly in the protective tarp. So far, they hadn't been disturbed. What he wouldn't give to have just one of them with him now, fending off these impetuous idiots, more so for the company than the help. Loneliness had been creeping up into his heart and it was becoming harder to ignore. The absence of their laughter, their cheerful banter, weighed on him now.

He looked to his feet where a significant amount of thermal clips were ready to be loaded. If they wanted a fight, he'd give it them.

Garrus had already come to terms with the fact that he probably wasn't getting out of there alive. He felt the need to record a message so whoever found it would know that this wasn't the last stand of a psychopath. His father had even gotten a call, for closure. Their conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth. The older turian seemed to want to see him again. Garrus was realizing as the day went on how much he wanted the same thing, but the prospect was unlikely. The Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack had teamed up to come after him. If they were this pissed, they weren't likely to let him go alive.

He waited for a while longer, keeping his gun at the ready, but it seemed they needed more time to regroup. For the past few hours, the merc groups had been sending inexperienced gunmen after him as bullet fodder. This probably meant they were working on a plan and were holding on to their more experienced members for the final push.

Allowing himself a moment to relax, Garrus dropped down from the cargo he had been squatting on and sat back against the ledge. The joints in his legs seized a little as he extended them to the floor. It had been a while since he had to hold that position for that long.

Garrus downed the last of his energy drink and tossed it in the small heap forming next to the garbage can. They were poor substitute for stims, but the once bountiful supply had long since run out. If the mercs didn't kill him, he feared exhaustion might.

Suddenly realizing the playlist in his visor had ended, he tapped his omnitool awake and restarted it. The heavy beat of the music crashed in. He would frequently have the playlist going throughout the base on days when the crew came back discouraged by a botched mission or recon. Though it wasn't a cure, it tended to lift their spirits a bit.

He was in the bunk area where everyone in the crew slept. It was a mess, for the most part. They were an organized bunch when it came to raiding merc parties, but no one could get a handle on keeping the base tidy. Monteague and Mierin were the youngest in the group and tended to assume others would clean up for them. Of course, no one did. It had sparked a few arguments, but no solution ever came of them.

The place still held the lingering smell of the last dinner they had there; a levo fried earth meat called chicken with veggies for those who could partake and a devo sweet and spicy stew. Ripper wasn't the best cook but she did pretty well with the rations they got. He could almost visualize her now, approaching him apprehensively with a warm plate. Had she always been so shy around him? The quarian was pretty talkative, but froze up whenever Garrus entered the room. Weaver had suggested she was just afraid of turians, but she had been pretty comfortable with Sidonis.

_Don't go there. Focus._ He gripped his gun to help steady his anger. Wherever the hell he was, the other turian was probably desperately hoping Garrus wasn't going to make it through this firefight. He almost wanted to promise himself that he wouldn't die to these idiots just to get a chance to tear the rat apart. If the mercs didn't kill him, Sidonis was going to be Garrus' next pet project.

He heard shouting from below. A larger group was coming from across the bridge. Garrus pushed himself from off the floor, keeping his head low, and looked through the rifle's scope. He was fully expecting to see another amateur squad approaching and was ready to pick them off pretty simply.

Suddenly, one of the chemical canisters exploded, tossing freelancers and their detached body parts into the air. Garrus had to duck to avoid the shrapnel. The building rumbled for a moment as the aftershock washed over all the containers.

_What the hell?_

He adjusted his scope to the warehouse entrance. Three oddly dressed mercs were approaching, their guns ready to fire not up at him, but at anyone else still in the lower levels. One of them carelessly kicked a salarian's arm aside. He took aim at that one's head and began to squeeze the trigger.

He flinched the barrel away just in time. The shot slammed into their shoulder, making the shield flicker for a moment. There was an N7 logo on the breastplate of their armor.

"Blue Suns approaching from the rear," called the salarian in the group.

Garrus recognized him from reports about the virus going around. He had started a clinic in the quarantine zone with the intention of curing the plague. The other companion was a human female wearing a ridiculously close-fitting Cerberus get-up. This situation was getting stranger by the second.

Despite their random arrangement, they worked excellently together. Each of them seemed to have professional training. The other mercs were dropping like flies. This was a squad that was a lot more experienced than the ones that had been coming down the bridge all day. The female in the N7 gear was dashing around in a familiar way, lobbing biotic blasts from behind cover and sending mercs flying.

_It couldn't be.._.

_:::A peal of laughter echoed up to him from the wreckage below. She ascended the fallen bulkhead with ridiculous bravado; her arms at her sides as her biotics lifted her from the hole, a huge grin plastered on her face. Garrus rushed toward her. With another laugh, Shepard collapsed on to him, energy spent.:::_

Once the room was clear, the one Garrus had almost killed undid the latches on her helmet and pulled it off with a groan. A lock of her once tightly bound bun was stuck in the seams. She spent a moment trying to awkwardly walk to the stairs and untangle herself at the same time. Her dark brown hair began falling down around her face and shoulders.

_:::Her hair was sticking to the blood and sweat around her temples. Shepard looked up at him, amber eyes huge and bright, and said, "That was...fucking awesome!":::_

Garrus went numb all over.

_Spirits..._

The ghost of Commander Alex Shepard was walking toward him. It had to be a ghost. Or a hallucination brought upon by sleep deprivation.

_:::_"_Can I sleep now?" She asked as if she needed permission._

"_Go ahead. I've got you.":::_

Something moved in the far corner. Garrus shifted the barrel and saw the shivering foot of a lone freelancer that had gone unnoticed.

"Archangel," said Shepard from behind him.

He held up his hand. The merc had started to creep from out of his hiding spot. Garrus shot him square in the face.

Shepard began to say something, but cut herself off. Instead, she gave a quiet, nervous laugh.

Garrus paused before turning to her. If he looked and she wasn't real, if it wasn't really her, he wouldn't know what to do. For weeks he heard false reports of her body being found. And then, like a cruel joke, the reports abruptly ended. The most noble woman he had ever known just ceased to exist. Every inch of him had mourned her passing.

What he had missed most was her laugh. So easily produced; anything could amuse her. He had found himself making corny jokes in his head that he knew she would appreciate and played back her unique cackle to drown out the silence. Her memory had kept him company long before anyone on Omega had. It was a complete shock to his system just hearing her voice now.

With effort, he moved to the stack of nearby cargo containers. He brushed off the food wrappers and cans and sat down, removing his helmet in the process.

"Shepard?" he said as he took a seat. "I thought you were dead."

Shock washed over Shepard's face. Her jaw hung open as she took him in. Those terrifyingly bright hazel eyes looked him up and down as if she could barely believe he was real.

_The feeling's mutual._

With little grace, her mouth clamped shut into a huge smile. She walked toward him with her arms held wide as if she were about to hug him. She seemed to think better of it a second later and dropped them. The smile remained, though.

It was a relief to see the genuine happiness in her eyes. The last time they had seen each other, his words hadn't been kind.

"Garrus, what are you doing here?" Shepard asked incredulously.

"Target practice."

She gave him a half hearted grin at this, but her eyebrows rose, concerned. Scars on her cheeks flared red. Had those always been there?

"Are you okay?"

Garrus realized how tired he must sound. "I've been better. I'm going to do a lot better now that you're here. That is, if you're here to help, not collect a bounty."

"How did you even end up in this situation? There are three merc groups after you right now, you know that?" She seemed impressed.

"You help me out of here, and I'll explain it. It's a...long story."

"There are mechs coming," said the other human, stepping forward. She nodded to the bridge. Several weapon wielding robots were making their way across the barrier.

"Looks like they're getting tired of wasting lives here," said Garrus. He aimed his weapon's scope on the intruders. "I've been expecting a bigger push."

"Well they're bringing it. They're planning on bringing in a gunship once the way is clear. It's not in the best working order, though," Shepard said with a smirk. "Mordin, Miranda, take positions in front of the stairs. I'll take point." She turned to Garrus as her squad hurried to the lower level. "Are you going to be alright up here?"

Garrus hunched down and popped off a shot. A mech collapsed as it was leaping on to the bridge.

"I've been handling myself so far."

"You shot me," Shepard said in a low voice, edging toward him.

"It was my way of saying good to see you." He flared his mandibles as he smiled. Shepard smiled back.

"When we get out of this, I'm gonna need your help with some stuff," she said as she wrapped her hair back into a bun. "There may be a little danger, lots of killing, saving the galaxy. Ya know, the usual. You up for it?"

_:::_"_I can't stay on this ship chasing ghosts and lost causes, Shepard. Real work needs to get done and you know it."_

"_I'm trying! You can't see that's what I'm doing?" Her voice caught in her throat. She was trying and failing to hold her rage back._

"_I don't know what you're doing, but whatever it is isn't worth a damn. These are not the actions of a commanding officer confident in her work.":::_

"Garrus?"

Her voice lifted him out of his memories. She was looking up at him expectantly. He wasn't alone in remembering that fight. Shepard was searching his face to see if he still held a grudge.

With a shrug, he said, "Eh, why not? I could use some more excitement in my life."

With another big grin, she made her way to the stairs, shoving her helmet back on and slamming the top with her fist to lock it in place.

"Let's kick ass, Vakarian!" she called to him.

"Just like old times."


	2. Chapter 2

It was as if he had never left her side. Overwhelming their opposition with combined force made Garrus remember just how much he had missed Alex Shepard. They fell easily into old routines, bad blood forgotten or ignored for now.

He had set up his visor to her squad's comm channel so he could hear her whoops as mercs perished. Her biotics seemed as though they were on overdrive. She and her companion, Miranda, were launching foes left and right and Shepard was having a fantastic time doing so.

His father would call her childish, irresponsible. Shepard applied her own system to the extensive training she received in the Alliance military. She was always organized. Each movement had a purpose; it just took an experienced eye to see. When you thought she had missed something – regenerating shields on an opponent or a precarious explosive container – she would turn around and use it to her advantage. It was like watching a life-sized game of chess, shrouded in dark energy.

Shepard worked best with clusters. She used her biotics and gunfire to force foes to gather in one area and then dispensed of them in one sweep. When in a squad, she left pockets of enemies for others to pick off. This often required a lot of movement. He watched her bouncing around the base's lower level, effortlessly light on her feet. It's what made her a great commander; Garrus appreciated how much she strived to make sure everyone was working efficiently.

Her favorite weapon, a simple heavy pistol, came in and out of view as she switched between it and using both hands for biotic throws. Hooked into the holster on her back were a shotgun and a grenade launcher. Whoever had let her have a grenade launcher didn't know her very well.

An all too familiar frustration was causing him a bit of a headache. What Shepard couldn't see were the smarter freelancers further down the bridge taking cover. From his vantage point he could see there were five mercs lined up behind a low wall. Only one of them was shooting, however, giving the illusion that he was back there alone. Whether Shepard was aware of this or not, she didn't mention it. Instead she crept forward to investigate on her own.

"You could ask me, you know. I can see pretty much everything up here," he said.

"What?" she asked sharply. "No, no, I got it."

He wasn't going to let her jump into an ambush. Garrus couldn't get a good shot on any of the freelancers without causing one of them needless pain so he opted for a feint. He aimed just beyond where they were sitting and pulled the trigger.

It worked; they dove out of cover, frightened an onslaught was going to rain on them from above. Shepard was there to pick them off as they cowered away. Two ran right back up the bridge, raising their guns in surrender. Though he planned to let them go, Garrus saw them drop before making it to the barrier. Someone on the other side had killed them for their cowardice.

"Watch it, Commander, there's only so much ass-covering I can do for you up here," he said into the comm for the whole squad to hear.

"You just keep taking the easy pickings from your hiding spot while I get the real work done," Shepard muttered.

Ah, the casual shit talking. It truly did feel as though they were never apart. When he had heard of her death, the grief struck him to the bone for months. There hadn't been anyone who he had synced up so well with in combat and he had wondered if he would ever get to experience that euphoria again. Now, it was as if the strain of the last few days was something his brain had cooked up for variety.

He had hope. Garrus could hope to see the next day instead of dreading it.

Garrus blinked rapidly to clear his mind and focus on the data flowing across the feed in his visor. The bodies of his crew were still unharmed but he had forgotten them momentarily. He had to concentrate and remember why they were there in the first place. He was Archangel and his crew lay dead below him because of his carelessness. Shepard's presence didn't change that.

"How are you holding up, Garrus?" Shepard asked breathlessly.

"Doing just fine, but it looks like they're sending in the heavy artillery."

A YMIR was marching its way down the bridge. Its movements seemed jerkier than typical.

"Mech not a problem," said Mordin. "Security systems overwritten. Chances of it firing on us unlikely."

Sure enough the mech started blasting away at its companions. The mercs were trying to dodge out of cover to avoid it, leaving themselves open to biotic throws from Shepard.

Garrus fired at the YMIR's head. It wobbled for a moment as sparks started flying out of the hole. With a crash, it toppled over.

"Take cover," he said to Shepard's squad. He ducked behind the ledge and waited for the eventual explosion. Mercenaries were calling for their team members to run, but it didn't seem like they were getting the message in time.

The giant mech burst into piece, shaking the building as it crumbled. Slowly rising, Garrus checked to see what the carnage was. The few mercs still alive were suffering from massive injuries. These were easily picked off. Mordin had incendiary rounds and was calling out, "Wound cauterized!" as he fired them.

A nightmarish war cry came from across the bridge. Spindly limbs dashing toward the base, Jaroth, leader of Eclipse, was making a suicide run for their position. Miranda took him out promptly with a biotic wave to the chest. He went flying off the bridge, screaming bloody murder as he went.

"All clear," Miranda called. "Any ideas as to how we get out of here?"

Shepard, who was making her way up to Garrus, said, "I was thinking we could just kill every last one of them. Sound good?"

He was pretty sure she was joking. "If we make a big enough dent, we can get across the bridge and make our way out." He turned to look down the bridge at the barrier. "They're setting up reinforcements. Lots of them. None are coming, though. Do you know how many are back there?"

"It's a constant flow, they've set up a recruitment operation in Afterlife." She leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. "You're pretty special to them. I don't think they'll be letting up anytime soon. Also, the krogan mentioned something about some bombs."

Just then, the building shook, rocked from a blast from below.

"That'd be them..."

Garrus groaned. "I blocked off another entrance in the basement, but it was a matter of time before they got through it."

"We'll take care of them. What needs to get done down there?"

Garrus explained the series of doors that needed to be hacked closed to keep the mercs out. Shepard seemed to get it, though her tone was little skeptical as she said, "That's going to take some time." She turned to her squad members. "Miranda, do you mind staying behind with Garrus?"

He scoffed. "Shepard, I'll be fine."

"Good, then she can entertain you with lively conversation. C'mon, Mordin." She hurried away with the salarian, leaving the other human behind.

Miranda didn't seem all that pleased about it, but Garrus got the feeling there were few things that did please her. She made no verbal complaints, though.

They both took position against the ledge and prepared for another assault. Shepard's voice came through his earpiece as a new set of mercs were appearing on the bridge. "I'm at the first shutter. Blood Pack's here."

"Make sure there's no one in the way," he instructed. "They won't close if there's something under them."

Shepard snorted. "I was so looking forward to seeing a vorcha get crushed by this."

Miranda was shooting down thugs on their end of the building with ease. Her movement was structured, practiced. The way she reloaded her weapon made it seem like she could do it in her sleep - like she enjoyed doing it in her sleep. There was something just too perfect about her.

Garrus had never seen quite so many well-proportioned curves on a female human before, at least not one carrying so much artillery. He was used to the softer look humans had in general but this one had a particularity to her.

"You're welcome to keep staring, just as long as you're shooting as well," she muttered.

He had forgotten he wasn't wearing his helmet anymore. Garrus shifted his eye back to his scope hurriedly. "Sorry. You're really well...trained."

"I appreciate it."

Garrus never thought he would see Shepard ordering Cerberus around, let alone willingly working with them. She wasn't one to forgive easily. It had once been a personal mission of hers to destroy as many Cerberus outposts as possible, right down to the grunts working in their labs.

_What's changed?_ He thought, glancing over at Miranda again.

Perhaps, he considered, this woman wasn't an active Cerberus member. Mordin had come with them, and he couldn't have been a part of the human-centric organization. It looked as though Shepard was collecting another unlikely group to stop the Reapers. Her crews had always been diverse. Recalling this, Miranda's presence didn't seem so improbable.

"I'm at the last shutter, Garrus," Shepard said in his ear. "These shitheads must really hate you. They brought fucking varren with them."

Garrus chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like Garm."

Miranda suddenly turned and looked behind them at another door. "Someone's trying to get through."

A metallic scraping was coming from another one of the entrances Garrus had sealed earlier. Somehow, someone had found a way to force their way in.

_Shit._

"Hurry up, Shepard, we're expecting more uninvited guests."

"Shutter sealed, on our way back."

Miranda focused on the bridge as Garrus moved to the back of their location, aiming at the door. He could hear a familiar voice barking orders behind it.

Garm, Blood Pack leader. He knew the krogan all too well. Despite his significant lack of intelligence, he was one of Omega's worst criminal commanders. Civilians were shown the brunt of his barbarity, pitting wards against each other to win the right to be left alone. For months, Garrus had been working to keep his seemingly endless supply of vorcha recruits in check.

It was with great displeasure that the turian didn't get a chance to kill him the last time they met. With Shepard and her team here now, though, he was more than confident he could take him out.

The door burst open and a couple shotgun toting vorcha appeared. Garm pushed passed his lackeys and pointed up at their vantage point. "Tear them to shreds!" he hollered.

Garrus shot the closest thug in the forehead. The krogan coward momentarily, but recovered, angrier still.

"Sonofabitch, cover me! I've got Archangel."

Shepard made her grand reappearance just then and started raining fire on the intruders. Garm was storming up the stairs, his shields holding up against the onslaught. He was truly making a beeline for Garrus.

"Company!" Miranda called. She rolled into cover behind a couch and started firing on the krogan as he approach. It barely fazed him.

Forgetting about his gun, Garm ran straight at Garrus who dodged out of the way just in time, a feat not easily achieved with his rifle in hand. The Blood Pack leader crashed into a shelving unit to slow himself down.

"I'm gonna snap you in half and eat your guts, you turian piece of shit!" He rounded on them and charged again. Miranda flung herself over the couch and Garrus rolled in the opposite direction behind some storage crates.

Garm was more determined than the last time they met. His charges were forcing them toward the back window. He seemed to be ignoring everything else going on around him just to get to Garrus.

"C'mon, Garm, you're getting careless." He tossed a crate at the krogran's head. There wasn't enough to time to reload his rifle. He needed to stall. "That redundant nervous system isn't going to hold up much longer."

"Shudup!" Garm roared.

He kicked the crate out of the way before charging once more. Garrus hopped on the containers and leaped over his head.

Miranda was firing rounds into Garm's back but was making little progress. "Shepard! A little help!"

"I'm trying! Once again, fucking _varren_!"

"Domesticated attack creatures particularly attracted to me," quipped Mordin. "Diet rich in salarian flesh, most probable."

Garm finally lifted his shotgun from his side. "Quit running and fight me!" He pulled the trigger but the shot went wide. His rage was affecting his aim.

Shepard came tearing up the hall. "Coming!" she screamed.

She was placing her pistol back in its holster with one hand and summoning her biotics in the other. Miranda did the same. They were preparing a combined attack. Garrus hurried behind them and began reloading as fast as he could.

He pulled the trigger, firing a concussive shot right between the two humans. It got Garm in the chest and pushed him back from the shock. His shield shattered. Miranda blasted him with an energy wave that lifted him in the air and Shepard followed up with one that tossed him over the ledge. Mordin fired on him as he fell to the ground. Garm struggled for a moment where he landed, but eventually he choked out a final scream and then collapsed.

"Area secured," said Mordin. "Excellently done."

Shepard took a few deep breaths as her biotics settled away. She took a seat on what was left of the couch. "That one wanted you dead pretty bad. You two have history?"

"I have history with all of them, but I guess my time with Garm was especially important to him." He checked his omnitool to look for any more signs of intrusion in the basement. "The lower levels are clear; no one's going to be sneaking up behind us. Think we can make a break across the bridge?"

Shepard waved a hand at him nonchalantly. "No problem, it's just the Blue Suns left, right?"

The back window shattered as a hail of gunfire crashed into the room. A gunship was hovering just outside. Inside sat three Blue Suns mercs. Garrus, Shepard and Miranda dove into cover.

"Are you timing this stuff for comedic effect?" Garrus shouted to Shepard over the rattling roar of the machine gun. "'Cause I'm not laughing!"

"Sorry, not everyone can be as hilarious as you, Vakarian!"

"More Blue Suns approaching from below!" Mordin called.

"Think you can handle the gunship for a bit?" Shepard asked Garrus.

"Go, I got it."

Shepard raced away, crouching to avoid the gunfire. Miranda remained. She replaced Shepard behind the couch and started tossing energy balls over it.

Mercs were pouring in through the window. They were getting in the way of getting a good shot of the gunship, which was swerving in and out of view. This was the toughest group, mostly because they had better funding. Their shields held up better to concussive shots and biotic blast so taking them out took more time. Garrus was getting frustrated.

Miranda also seemed to be tired of whittling down their defenses so she came up with a better idea. Instead of firing on them, she waited for the mercs to move out of cover and then threw them with her biotics, tossing them out the window. It was working. Garrus set up shots to disable them so she had more time to draw up the energy for the blasts.

The mercs were cleared but the gunship was still out there. Garrus stepped out of cover to get a better firing position, eye still trained down his scope.

"Here it comes!" Miranda shouted, but the gunship had already started firing.

Searing pain flooded his chest as Garrus took several direct shots that blasted away his shields. He was knocked to the floor by the impact, but was able to crawl into cover. Tarak was screaming at him over the comm in the gunship, but he could barely understand what he was saying. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his skull. He looked down. A hole in his armor was smoking slightly. He was hit, but not badly. If anything there would be some damage to the plating on his chest.

To his left, just below him, Shepard and Mordin were still busy with the mercs rappelling down the side of the building. Miranda was taking cover behind a far wall as the couch was now in several fluffy pieces strewn all over the area. Tarak was not letting up. Every few seconds a new hail of gunfire came through the window and he was still screaming intangibly, mostly profanities.

From his location, Garrus couldn't get a clear shot and no one else was in a position to take down the airship before it started causing more damage. He knew just behind him was a crate with enough side cover to give him the ability to properly aim and perhaps hit the pilot. They were so close to getting out. Taking the chance was worth it.

He made a break for the better cover when the next barrage ended. The world seemed shrouded by an invisible blanket. The gunfire from below seemed distant and distorted. Tarak's shouting was even more indiscernible. Now he was out in the open.

Garrus took a step. Suddenly all the sound rushed back in like an airlock had been opened in deep space.

Miranda started to warn him to stay back. The explosion cut her off.

Swept up in a wave of heat and smoke, Garrus felt his body lift up off the ground and then fall again hard. The wind was immediately knocked out of it. At the same moment, his lungs demanded air, but all he could suck in was fire. An incredible pain tore into his face and neck. He saw white spots burst in front of his eyes and blood started pouring into his mouth.

His body screamed for oxygen but his throat had completely shut. Every gasp granted him more blood, choking him over and over. His lungs began filling with fluid. The room was going blue as more blood poured into his eye.

He could hear Shepard's voice calling his name, again cloudy. There was great deal of heavy clattering going on next to him and then several loud blasts.

Suddenly, silence. Everything went dark. His lungs were no longer desperate to expand.

_Almost. Almost made it._


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus woke with a start. He was immediately blinded by bright, artificial light and white spots bloomed in his vision. The sudden brightness was causing a headache. It was after he shut his eyes again, that he noticed he was no longer wearing his visor. There was no stream of information telling him about his surroundings.

He made an attempt to sit up but his whole body was stiff. It felt as though every one of his muscles was bruised. There were very few places that didn't hurt to move. All attempts to turn his head were met with more vertigo so he decided to remain still. From where he lay he could make out that he was on hospital bed in a sleek medbay. A familiar medbay.

"Garrus, it's good to see you awake."

A familiar gray haired woman walked up to the table he was laying on. Wrinkles around her eyes and mouth stretched when she smiled at him, pleasant and motherly.

"Dr. Chakwas..." Garrus uttered with difficulty. Something was keeping his mouth from moving. He suddenly realized that he couldn't feel his right mandible or the right side of neck. The doctor prevented him from touching his face with a firm hand.

"You have considerable damage. While it may not feel like it now, a missile from that gunship grazed you. Nothing important was hurt, but there will be scarring." She rounded the table and began busying herself with that side of his face. He couldn't feel anything, but he heard wet fabric being peeled away.

"Is this the Normandy?" he asked her.

Chakwas nodded. "It is, but it is a little different from what you remember. This one was built by Cerberus." She walked to the back of the room and rummaged through a supply bin. "Top of the line, all the new gadgets and whatnot. Even has an AI controlling bits of it."

"Aren't they outlawed - AH!" A sharp pain flashed across his mandible. The drugs were wearing off.

"I doubt that is something Cerberus is concerned with." She approached him again with medigel and a new bandage. She reapplied them carefully. "There. This bandage should hold for a few hours. You'll need to keep replacing them for a while."

With a little effort, Chakwas helped him sit up. The room spun for a moment so he kept his head down to steady himself. His armor had been removed so that his injuries could be taken care of. As expected, his rib plates had been bruised, but their pain was an annoyance compared to the one rising up his neck and into his face.

Garrus felt vulnerable without his armor. Though his carapace was designed to protect his more sensitive areas, he felt most comfortable wearing the suit, even while sleeping. It was even rarer that he wouldn't have something covering his hands and feet; his claws tended to get in the way.

"Your armor is here," said Chakwas, reading his concerned expression. She gestured to the table across from him. "I think you're ready enough to put it back on and go, but you must come see me if you're experiencing excess discomfort or dizziness. There's a small chance you have a concussion."

He nodded. "Pretty sure my brain is fine." He climbed down from the bed and walked over to his armor. His talons clicked on the floor as he moved. "How long was I out?"

"About eighteen hours," said Chakwas. "A lot of that I expect was from pure exhaustion. You were working your body for a very long time, Garrus. Please consider resting for a while, though I doubt Shepard will allow that."

"Shepard? Is she around?"

"She is. I was supposed to instruct you to meet with her whenever you woke up." She looked away from him and seemed to address the room as a whole. "EDI, could you locate Shepard for us."

A console near the door lit up and a spherical interface rose out of it. A cool female voice came from it. "Commander Shepard is currently in the communication room with Lieutenant Taylor."

"That's the AI then?" Garrus asked as he snapped the last pieces of his breastplate in place.

"Yes, Officer Vakarian, I am EDI," said the AI, sounding a little indignant. "I work as the ship's main warfare defense system. If you need further assistance, please do not hesitate to ask." It went silent and the orb slid back into the console.

Chakwas smirked. "She takes a little getting used to, but is an incredible asset. The comm room is upstairs. I'll be in here if you need anything."

Garrus nodded, fitted his visor in place and made his way out of the door. On the other side he took a moment to situate himself in his surroundings. The Normandy: the prize example of turian and human cooperation now redesigned to fit Cerberus' needs. Shepard probably had quite a bit to say about it.

The crew quarters looked pretty much the same, if not a little more spacious. There was a manned kitchen near the communal area now. He saw the stairs and catwalk to the batteries. If he was going to stay on the ship, perhaps he could be stationed there, somewhere more useful than the cargo bay. The Mako could only be fussed with so much, especially after Shepard got ahold of it.

It was the steady stream of humans in Cerberus attire that made him weary. A small group of men sitting at a table in the mess stared at him. Instinctively, he checked their vitals in his visor, but none had elevated heart rates or even bitter expressions. A couple of them even waved in greeting. Garrus nodded back, but kept them in his sights until he reached the elevator.

Their ease and friendliness gave him pause. Garrus wondered if this was some sort of trap. Chakwas hadn't acted as if she we working under duress, though he wouldn't put it past Cerberus to brainwash someone. The whole situation was incredibly odd, especially given the lack of hostility. This organization was never hesitant to express their bitterness toward aliens.

He found the elevator around the corner and stepped in. It brought him to the CIC without prompting. Garrus assumed the ship's AI had control of it.

This view was far more familiar than the last. In front of him, the galaxy map conquered the area. Several ensigns and navigators bustled around the vast model and many nodded to him as they passed the elevator. He made to step forward to say hello to Pressly, but caught himself in the doorway. Sadness mixed with a hint of guilt settled into his stomach.

Joker had given him all the bad news when the remaining SR1 crew had returned to the Citadel. It had only been two years but he had forgotten that quickly Shepard wasn't the only person they had lost over Alchera.

With a quick glance further ahead, Garrus could just see the back of the pilot's familiar cap in the cockpit. This settled him a little. Everything on this ship was different, but seeing Joker in the pilot's chair - where he belonged - was reassuring. Garrus made a mental note to talk to him later on.

A red-haired human woman standing at the desk to the right of the galaxy map greeted him then. Her eyes grew wide when she caught sight of his injury.

"Oh, Officer Vakarian! You're awake!" she chirped. "We didn't know how long you'd be resting. I certainly hope you're feeling better, sir. Kelly Chambers." She uttered the last part as if she had forgotten the name was her own.

She was very young. Garrus wondered how she had gotten a position on the ship.

"I'm fine. I'm looking for Shepard," Garrus said promptly. She seemed like the kind of girl who would talk indefinitely if allowed.

"Oh, of course. You can step through the armory to get to the war room."

She gestured to his left. He nodded at her and headed through the door.

He passed through the armory, which was surprisingly well stocked. Cerberus must have had quite the stockpile to pay for this firepower. Despite his desire to stay and look through it all, he wanted to see Shepard again. He went through the only other door and came to the hallway. There were two doors here. The one to his immediate right seemed like a good choice so he took it.

Shepard was inside, leaning over the table, talking to another Cerberus crew member. This one was more physically built than the rest of the men he saw on the ship.

"Tough son of a bitch," the man said with a laugh. "Didn't think you'd be up yet."

"Hey!" said Shepard, with a huge smile.

"So I must not look that bad if you're happy to see me," Garrus said to her. "No one else has mentioned it, so I figured they were just being polite."

She snorted and gave a dramatic shrug. "Hell, you were always ugly. Any damage is actually an improvement the way I see it."

It was Garrus's turn to laugh but a shock of pain arched through his jaw. He raised his hand to touch it, but heard Dr. Chakwas reprimanding him in the back of his head.

"Stop. Laughing hurts. I can't eat if this thing falls off. At least I get a sexy scar out of this. The krogan women will go nuts."

Shepard laughed again. The sound cheered him immensely. Her whole demeanor changed his mood. Seeing her made him feel a lot more comfortable in his surroundings. Chakwas was familiar, but she didn't remind him of their achievements like Shepard did. When you save a cultural hub from total destruction by taking down a indoctrinated cyborg together, a very particular kind of bond is formed.

The man on the other side of the table shifted a little where he stood. An amused, knowing look was raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, Garrus, this is Lieutenant Jacob Taylor."

"Just Jacob's fine," he said. "We're glad to have you on board, sir. That is, if you're staying."

"Of course he is," said Shepard with no uncertainty.

"Uh, yes I will be staying," Garrus said, ignoring her. "And it's just Garrus."

"Great. We made sure to leave evidence to make it look like Archangel died in the battle at your warehouse. Arrangements were made to have the bodies of your team collected and stored respectfully." Jacob picked up a datapad from the conference table in front of him and handed it to Garrus. "If you know of any next of kin or home worlds for them, we can be accommodating."

Garrus's throat suddenly grew dry as he looked down at the datapad. "Thank you. I'll, uh, see what I can do."

Jacob saluted Shepard. "I'll be in the armory if you need me."

Garrus nodded at Jacob as he exited. He stepped into the room a little and looked around. Cerberus didn't spare expenses, it seemed. Everything looked very new and clean. All the surfaces gleamed as if freshly polished. This ship may have been called the Normandy but the original had less expensive tastes.

"Cerberus, Shepard?" he said, turning to her slowly. "I know it's been two years, but we've seen them do some pretty terrible stuff."

Shepard shook her head. "I know, I didn't forget. I'm not exactly comfortable here."

He tapped the console on the table. A holographic representation of the ship blinked into view. A single red dot in the middle was labeled "You are here". He lifted a browplate at her.

"Okay, so maybe all this fancy shit is really cool. It's sort of incredible seeing what disposable income can generate."

"I don't remember you being easily swayed by shiny objects, Commander," he teased. He tapped the console again and the hologram disappeared.

She tilted her head down and gave him a sullen look. "You know it's not just that. You saw Kahoku."

Garrus stiffened. He remembered the admiral's gray form and the marks from countless incisions covering his extremities. It was as if the life had been drained out of the man, punishment for daring to seek justice. His face was contorted, forever, in agony.

"It's either Cerberus or...well, nothing," Shepard went on. "The Council has their heads up their asses about the Reapers and there are human colonies disappearing throughout the galaxy. You didn't see Freedom's Progress. I can't let it go on. We have to do something."

"And you're sure Cerberus is the best way?"

"No," she said, turning slowly on her heel to face the table again. "But I don't see anyone else with their resources trying to do anything about the Reapers. Of course, I've been dead for two years, so I'm probably not as informed as I should be."

"Yeah, about that..." Garrus began, stepping toward her and gestured to her face.

The scars on her cheeks weren't as prominent as they were when they were on Omega. Still, they were new and as far as he remembered, Shepard never had glowing blood.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "That's a complicated story."

"We're both full of those, huh?"

"Do you... want to catch up?"

Garrus could see the apprehension in her eyes, hear it in her tone. There was baggage in it all, something she wasn't completely sure she wanted to talk about just yet. Neither had mentioned the moment they shared after killing Saren or their fight before he had gone back to the Citadel. They were sore topics, one that didn't seem to fit in this generally happy moment. She was only asking to be polite. He didn't have the energy for a heart-to-heart now either so turning down the offer was easy.

Before he could decline, EDI burst out of the terminal in the table.

"Commander, there is an Eclipse depot on the planet Daratar that has a sizable collection of useful cargo. It would be unwise to put this venture off as the stability of the cargo is unknown. Aria T'Loak provided its exact location."

"Thanks, _Mom,_ I'll get right on that."

"You're welcome, Shepard." EDI slid back into the table with a satisfied hum. Garrus tried to hold back a grin.

"I need to talk to Mordin and Miranda about a few things," she said to him. "There's a laundry list of leads to investigate and people to pick up." She looked up at him, face hard and determined. "I would have warned you about Cerberus, but I didn't know it was going to be you on Omega. Just know, I'm not them. This is still the Normandy, still my ship. I won't make you do anything you'll regret."

"I trust you, Shepard. I'll go where you need me." He tried his hardest to give her a reassuring look but doubted his injury was allowing it.

"Thanks. It's really nice having another familiar face around here."

"Even one as ugly as mine?" Garrus asked as they both walked to the door.

"I can get used to it. It's not just krogan women that like scars, ya know."

"Mm, I'm honored," he said sarcastically. "I'm going to be in the forward batteries if you need me. See what this thing is packing."

They exited the hall through opposite doors. On his way back to the crew's quarters, he looked down at the datapad and started tapping at the display. Members of the Normandy crew were saying hello to him as he passed, but he only nodded in response. It was odd having people acknowledge him as a superior. He wasn't very used to being called "sir" or "Officer". The idea of anyone on his Omega crew saluting him was comical. They were organized, but not that organized.

His heart sank. _No, not organized enough._

Garrus stepped through the door to the batteries and closed it behind him quickly. He moved to the back of the room, just to the left of the cannon, and leaned against the wall.

Each of his crew members had a few sentences containing the little information Cerberus had on them. Many were just physical descriptors and none had their full names listed. _All that precaution isn't helping me now_, he thought bitterly.

Garrus slid down the wall and sat on the floor, wishing he had taken more time to get to know them. What information he had about their pasts was a good start but he doubted he would be able to find homes for all of them. He tried not think about what would happen to the bodies that had nowhere to go.

This room was quiet. The mass effect engine below rumbled gently, but other than that, Garrus had nothing to distract him. No more traps to set or areas to secure for invasion, no more mercs to shoot. It was just him and his memories. Garrus took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The sooner he could start remembering any personal information about his teammates on Omega, the sooner he could get them to a final resting place.


	4. Chapter 4

_:::In his mind, he saw her smile. Big white teeth splattered with a little blood but still charming. He held on to that image to keep him whole, to fill the gaps the real thing had left in his mind, his heart. If that smile could just stay forever, keep him company…._

"_We've lost you again, boss."_

_The sound of the car's engine roared back into his mind. Omega's Kima district developed in front of him as her smile slipped away. It was useless to hang on, but he grasped at it, hoping it would linger for a little while longer._

"_Come back, boss."_

"_I'm here," said Garrus._

_Sidonis leaned forward, shifting a little to get a good look at him._

"_You look half dead. When did you sleep last?"_

_Butler scoffed. "I stopped asking him that weeks ago. Runs on adrenaline and sweet justice, don't ya, boss?"_

_Garrus stayed silent to collect himself. Memories of Shepard were always vivid, almost tangible. They drained what little energy he had._

"_Home sweet home," said Butler as he pushed in the wheel of the stolen sky car._

_The landing was smooth and quiet. Garrus brought up his omni-tool and tapped in the code to drop down the bridge leading up to their base. He got out and pulled the seat forward for Sidonis to exit. Butler was already standing near the trunk when they rounded the car. The human rolled his neck, the girth of it barely containing the veins bulging out his skin._

"_Ready?" he asked the turians after flexing his biceps a couple times._

"_Go."_

_Butler threw the trunk door open and they all dove forward to restrain the salarian within._

"_Unhand me! This is outrageous!" he screamed, writhing viciously. "I haven't done anything!"_

"_Like hell you haven't!" Butler shouted over him with a laugh. He managed to hook both his arms under the squirming man's shoulders and hauled him out of the car. Sidonis hurried around him to cut the ties holding his wrists together._

"_We're not going to hurt you," said Garrus evenly. "We actually want your help."_

_The salarian looked up at him, face stricken with anger and confusion. "Help with what, exactly?"_

"_You're lookin' at Archangel, mate," Butler explained. "It's Weaver, right?"_

"_Ah-ya-ya yes! Yes, it is!" His rage evaporated immediately. The salarian snatched Garrus' hand into his and began shaking it vigorously. "Pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I hope you didn't mind the, um, display I made to get your attention."_

"_We saw it. Blasting Shurta's comm towers in broad daylight wasn't the smartest idea." Garrus pulled his hand back as politely as he could and added, "But it was spectacular. Sid is going to have a chat with you about subtlety, though. Welcome aboard."_

"_Thank you, sir! Very, _very _happy to be here."_

"_Can see that," Butler muttered as Sidonis ushered Weaver up the bridge. He leaned against the vehicle and turned to Garrus. "Gotta fanbase now, huh?"_

_The turian groaned loudly. He took a few steps down the bridge and looked out to the spiked pillars piercing Omega's horizon. _

"_I don't want this. I didn't get into this to be famous."_

"_You can't expect to play the hero and not get treated like one."_

_Garrus wanted to object, but knew it was pointless. Archangel was renowned now. Locals praised him in bars and thugs fled their hideouts when word got out that he was in the area. A housing complex in the Fumi district had "Archangel is watching" spray painted on its facade. There was no denying their influence._

Shepard would love this _he thought, and then immediately regretted doing so. He pressed his hands into his skull, trying to physically push her image out of his mind. Grieving was too tiring. It had been almost a year since her death and yet it still took all of his effort to let her go._

_Butler approached him and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. They stood together, silently, for a long while as Garrus pulled himself together again. Finally, he straightened and thanked the man for his support._

"_S'aright, mate. We've all got demons. Some are more persistent than others. Let's go ditch this car. Nalah's expecting me back for dinner.":::_

_#_

Once he started looking into the families and homeworlds of the Archangel crew, Garrus felt a little overwhelmed by the support Cerberus was giving him. Whatever general information he asked for was sent to his omni-tool within minutes. Shipping schedules, delivery times, bureaucratic issues that would hinder transport; all were sent to him by a small group working from Omega in a secure location. The bodies were also held there, in refrigerated coffins, ready to be transported discretely.

He tried to get into contact with the families he knew of. Only one had responded so far, the wife of his best enforcer, Anthony Butler. Nalah assured him that her husband would get a proper burial on Earth once she had the funds to make the trip off Omega. She also implored the turian to stop blaming himself for Butler's death. _He'd beat you senseless if he knew what you tried to do_, she had written. _Don't throw your life away over this. You have so much more to offer._

Garrus didn't feel as effective as she was letting on. He had been responsible for the lives of ten remarkable people. It was his negligence that allowed a trusted member betray them all. Nalah didn't need to hear this, though. Ignoring her refusal to accept the money, Garrus sent her enough credits to travel to Earth and remain there for the foreseeable future. It was acquired from crime lords who had no use for it in death and used in cases of emergencies such as this. If he couldn't turn back time and protect his crew, he could at least ensure their families were safe and comfortable.

The majority of his time was spent working on these transport arrangements and studying the Javelin, the Normandy's main defense system. In part, he was hiding. It seemed that every time he ventured out, a member of the crew wanted to question him about his experience on Omega or as a C-Sec officer. Kelly Chambers was especially bad about this. She acted as the ship counselor and felt it was her duty to extract every feeling out of him.

Garrus rarely saw Shepard in the following four days though they spoke regularly over comms. She was never in one place for very long. She was either running around the ship, checking up on the crew to see if they needed anything, or ashore collecting supplies, information and people.

Shepard made a final trip to Omega to pick up another squad member before infiltrating the Eclipse smuggling depot on Daratar. Garrus stumbled across him while looking for a wedge pillow comfortable enough for a turian in the starboard cargo bay. Across from the door, a console screen cycled footage from all over the ship, including the catwalk leading up to the batteries.

A gruff voice called out to him from the other end of the room, "Ah, you've found my hiding spot."

Zaeed Massani strutted toward him, arm already extended. They shook hands and introduced themselves.

"Archangel, eh? I heard a lot about you while I worked on Omega. You were a real pain in the ass." He laughed, his voice harsh and gravelly.

Garrus had heard a lot about him, too, but didn't let on as much. Zaeed was a well-known freelance mercenary. As an individual, his actions didn't threaten the livelihood of Omega's civilians. He worked mostly as a bounty hunter in the employ of rich bureaucrats. When their jobs intersected, Garrus instructed the team to give the merc a wide berth. It was widely known that Zaeed's main focus was on his next paycheck and had no issue disposing of anyone who got in the way.

The two men learned they had a lot in common despite their differing occupations. Zaeed didn't tolerate slave trading and found most of the crime syndicates on Omega completely inept. He also had a plethora of information about the mercenary groups all over the galaxy that proved useful. This helped Garrus know what channels to avoid when dispersing the bodies of his former crew; their enemies had no issue disrespecting the dead. The many stories Zaeed had to share about life as a merc were highly entertaining. He never left out the gruesome details.

Shepard, Miranda and Zaeed went out to fetch the cargo from Daratar, its location given to Shepard as a favor from Aria T'Loak. After a probe was sent down to confirm its location, it became clear she had neglected to mention the cargo had most likely been obtained illegally and Eclipse was in the process of abandoning it with several YMIR mechs to destroy the evidence. Shepard had hauled her grenade launcher on to the transport ship, all too eager to use it again.

They returned from the desert planet covered in dust, but looking pleased. Miranda was tapping away at a datapad, taking inventory of the element zero, weapon mods and other equipment they had picked up when Garrus went down to the loading dock. Her form fitting outfit seemed have repelled the dust and only a few specks lingered where her suit met her skin. The operative's hair was sleek and full as ever, not a strand out of place as if she hadn't been wearing a helmet.

Shepard, in sharp contrast to Miranda, was surrounded by a ring of red dirt by the armor lockers. She was practically dripping in sweat, her hair was a mess and her toes were caked in sand from the floor. Still, she was grinning gently to herself, pleased with her work.

"Garrus," said Miranda, though she didn't look up from the screen. "I was going to come up to speak to you after this. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He resisted the urge to touch the bandage on his face. Chakwas had just fitted a new one for the day, but it was already beginning to sag a little.

"Good. We're on our way to the next mission. Shepard and I think you are well-suited for it."

Shepard padded toward them then. She had stripped down to a black tank top. The light from her cybernetics shown faintly against her dark skin, especially around her collarbone and ankles. He tried to keep the rumble of worry from rising up in his subvocals. Shepard was muscular, always had been, but to him, her frame was still slight. It bothered him to see her so willingly vulnerable.

"Can we meet in the comm room in half an hour?" Miranda asked them. "I would like to brief you both about Purgatory, especially if you still insist I remain aboard the ship, Commander."

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Shepard nodded. "Yes, I do. I need you here if anything goes wrong."

"Sorry, I'm a little out of the loop," Garrus said.

"I can explain a little, c'mon." She threw her thumb toward the elevator. They left Miranda in the loading bay to finish up the cargo log.

They got off on the top level at the captain's quarters. Shepard entered a code into the door and it slid open.

"You have unread messages at your communication unit, Commander." EDI's voice greeted them as they entered the room.

"Thanks," Shepard muttered. She moved to a drawer just to the left of the entrance and pulled out a fluffy white towel. "I need to shower, but I can talk to you from in there." She gestured toward a silver door behind her desk. "Make yourself at home."

Garrus wasn't sure that he could. With each step, he worried he would break something. Shepard's room was huge and stocked with many fragile amenities. To his left, a large, empty fish tank sat in the wall, providing much of the light that filled the room. Down the steps was her queen-sized bed, neatly made up with a white duvet and black pillows. Matching leather couches and armchairs were placed around a small table. On it sat a single wine glass that still held dregs of her last drink. He took a seat on the couch and tried not to think about how much it cost.

In front of her desk was a sheet of glass with brackets lined across it. It looked like it had been originally meant for shelving but Shepard was using it to showcase model ships. Garrus recognized the Normandy they were currently on as well as a turian cruiser.

"We're headed for Purgatory," Shepard called from the bathroom. "Should be there in a couple days. Do you know anything about it?"

"Not really. I know it's run by the Blue Suns."

"We have to pick up someone held there. Dossier's on my desk."

Garrus went back up the steps and looked through the datapads near her personal console. There was one set aside so he picked it up. The screen lit up and the words "Omega: Archangel" scrolled across the top.

This surprised him, though he thought it probably shouldn't have. He had led a vigilante band that caused irreversible damage to the reigning crime groups on the space station. Of course Cerberus would have a profile on him. Still, it was odd seeing it all written out. He had a file in a major database that someone had been updating regularly. For all the trouble they had gone through to keep their base location and raid information off the record, it didn't seem to phase Cerberus at all. It didn't have any personal details about him, though, which was reassuring.

Shepard exited the bathroom then, shrouded in steam. "Did you find it?"

"No, I found mine."

She smiled and said, "It seemed to have everything in it except who you were. Almost like Cerberus knew but wanted it to be a surprise." She rifled through the other pile, picked up another datapad and handed it to him. "After we found you, I thought I should do a little more digging than what they provided. Tell me if you notice anything strange."

Garrus scrolled through the information on the screen, trying not to look up as Shepard pulled clothes out of the drawers under the fish tank. She was wrapped in the white towel though it barely covered the tops of her legs. He was about as indifferent to her nakedness as she was as he had seen her in various states of undress several times. Shepard had the habit of tending to her own wounds on the field when professional medical assistance was unavailable.

It was her scarring that bothered him. When she dropped the towel to put on an undershirt, he saw one long scar that worked the length of her spine. It glowed brighter than all the others on her body. It was like seeing the zipper on the back of a costume, as if she could step out of her skin any moment.

"This is...cryptic," he pointed out, continuing to read the convict's dossier. "There isn't a single mention of gender."

"It's weird, right? You would think someone would mention it." She came back to him with her towel in hand. Now she was wearing a Cerberus issued shirt and trousers. With the towel, she tousled her hair dry.

"There also isn't any mention of why they're in prison, either."

Shepard nodded. "Seems like Cerberus is hiding something, right?"

"Not exactly surprising."

The commander picked up another datapad and turned it on. "This is more extensive. Miranda helped me a bit. She thought it was weird the dossier was so bare, too."

The name Jack cropped up in the data Garrus looked through. Her criminal record took up eight pages, all taking place within a ten year span. There were few personal details about her. No one seemed to be able to lock down an actual appearance, either; many grainy pictures were taken from security footage, some sketches created from witness accounts. Because she was bald, many assumed she was male.

"She's experienced," he offered.

"The Blue Suns captured her after she raided a Cerberus facility. No one knows why she did it or why the Blue Suns were even there. All of that information is stuck somewhere even Miranda can't get to."

"They took her to Purgatory after that?"

Shepard nodded. "They put her in cryo not long after she got there, but there's no reason listed. She's been in the tank for over a year."

"Spirits…."

"Yeah, it's fucked up."

He turned his head to the side, skeptical. "You sure you want her on the ship?"

"I'm positive. She's incredible. She's a damned powerful biotic, and you know coming from me that's saying something."

"I do."

Shepard combed her hair and pulled it into her typical bun. Together, they left her quarters and made their way to the comm room.

At the CIC, Kelly Chambers confronted them as they got out of the elevator. "Commander, you have unread messages at your terminal. I think you'll want to take a look."

"Fine," Shepard said with a sigh. "I'll meet you in there."

Miranda was already at the conference table, looking over a holographic model of Purgatory, when Garrus walked in. She was accompanied by Zaeed, who was leaning against the far wall, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was carefully studying her every curve.

"Shepard's checking her messages," Garrus said before she could ask. "Seemed important."

Miranda only nodded, but her posture weakened slightly. She recovered just as quickly and continued looking at the model in front of her. He thought maybe she knew how serious the message was. It made sense for Cerberus to keep tabs on who was contacting Shepard. Miranda's reaction, though, was strange. Why would she care enough about the contents for it to affect her poise if even just for a moment? Whatever the reason, it probably didn't mean well for the commander.

Shepard walked through the doorway not long afterward. Her face read nothing, though her hand was grabbing at her collar as if her shirt was too tight around the neck. When Garrus asked if everything was okay, she brushed him off with a nod. "What have you got for us?" she asked Miranda.

With a wave of her hand, Miranda spun the Purgatory on display so that it was hovering parallel to the table. "The prison is a reconstituted cattle transport. There are thirty blocks, each holding about four hundred cells. Estimates put the number of current prisoners at around three thousand."

"How many guards?" Zaeed asked.

"Fifteen hundred, a foolishly large amount, from my perspective. Which brings me to the warden..." Miranda tapped on the console and the starship disappeared. It was replaced with the figure of a turian. "Kuril."

"This is the idiot we have to worry about," Shepard explained to Garrus. "He knows I'm alive now due to someone's big mouth on Omega. We don't know what he's planning, but we know to stay alert. There have been reports of increased activity there since last week."

The prison came back into view. Miranda zoomed in on a section toward the center. "This is the high security block Jack's cryopod is in. She's uninjured, but from what we understand, she put up a hell of a fight when they locked her in. She'll come out just as enraged. _Be cautious_. She's highly skilled, highly dangerous."

"Does she know we're coming for her?" Garrus asked.

"Unlikely. I doubt they would open her cell just to tell her she was going to be released."

"How likely is resistance?"

"Very. EDI knows to be on high alert if and when they attempt to commandeer the ship." She glanced at each of them and added, "I don't want to have to leave you behind..."

"S'right, sweetheart. We'll make it quick," vowed Zaeed.

Miranda's eyes narrowed, displeased with his familiar tone but said nothing of it.

They each left the room after being certain the risks were made clear. Garrus followed Shepard into the armory.

"Hey," he said, stopping her before she could leave the room. "Is everything alright?"

Her eyes darted to the far corner where Jacob was soldering something at his workstation. Slowly, she looked back up at Garrus, eyebrows curled in. She was trying to say more with her expression than she could out loud.

"Things could be better…."

"As usual," he replied quietly.

"Some other time?"

He knew she was asking to hold off on more than just this topic. Nodding, he let her leave the room alone, not wanting to intrude any further.

Though it wasn't pressing, Garrus understood they needed to talk at some point. He dreaded it, as he was sure she did, because of the implications. There was some hope that they would be able to continue on exactly as they were, before everything started to crumble. The red fissure that ripped down the center of her back edged back into his mind. Her scars were a reminder of more than just her resurrection.

* * *

Sorry for the delay! Beta went on vacation, then I did and then I was sick. Hope to get next chapter out sooner.

Reviews greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

The buzz of the decontamination scan drowned out Shepard's groan of discomfort. She let her head fall back as Garrus helped her out of her chestplate.

"Shit," she said under her breath.

Only one shot made it through her armor, but the lower half of her shirt was soaked in blood. Her hand shook as she placed it over the entry wound and applied pressure to ebb the flow. The light of her cybernetics was more intense than he had ever seen them. For a moment, he thought he could see the red glow behind her pupil.

Guilt crept his spine. If he had been paying attention, this could have been avoided.

"Don't...make that face," she said, her breath uneven. "This isn't your fault."

He was reminded of her collapsing into his arms after their fight with Saren two years before, but there was a sharp contrast in her attitude. Then she had relaxed and laid down in his lap while they waited for the search party to find them. Now, her eyes were wide, looking dead ahead, and she was leaning against the wall to keep herself standing.

To Zaeed, she said, "Tell Miranda I'll meet her in the comm room after I get this looked at."

Miranda was already standing in front of them when the door opened on to the ship. Her arms were crossed and she looked as though she was prepared to start a shouting match. One look at Shepard covered in blood and her expression completely changed.

She pressed her finger to her ear. "Dr. Chakwas, be prepared to attend to a severe gunshot wound."

Shepard attempted to brush her off and walk on her own but stumbled on her way out of the airlock. Garrus caught her before she hit the floor. He pulled her arm around his neck and helped her across the catwalk.

The rest followed them closely through the CIC except for the convict they had brought with them from Purgatory. Jack was taking in her surroundings, idly walking past the cockpit and the ensign stations. Several members of the crew were staring openly at her. Joker gaped from his seat, half horrified, half enamored. There hadn't been much intel on her to begin with, but no one was expecting a half naked bald woman covered up to her crown in tattoos to come out of the arkship with them.

Zaeed stayed back when the elevator doors opened. "It'll be too cramped. I'll look after the little hellraiser." He pointed his thumb back at Jack whose expression had shifted into a twisted euphoria.

Garrus looked down at Shepard who was slowly growing paler, but her eyes were still bright and determined to stay lucid. She nodded at Zaeed then shifted her eyes to Jack, concern arching into her brow, but then the doors slid closed.

It still felt crowded with just the three of them. The scent of human blood and sweat rose into Garrus' nostrils, slightly nauseating him. Shepard tensed at every minute move he made so he tried to ignore his discomfort enough to hold as still as possible. Miranda remained silent as she scanned the commander's abdomen.

Everyone rushed out on the next floor. Garrus had to ignore Shepard's sharp cry of pain as he hefted her arm further along his shoulder, half carrying her the rest of the way through the doors of the medbay. He lifted her on to the table that had been prepared for their arrival and stepped back slightly to allow Chakwas to begin scanning her body. A blond man in white, the doctor's assistant, unlatched the rest of her armor.

Miranda was just inside the door, hurriedly looking through the scan she had taken of Shepard on her omnitool.

"Do you know what she was hit with?" she asked Garrus sharply.

"Not sure. There were a few YMIR mechs and the guards had disruptor ammo."

The doctor gave Shepard a minor sedative and allowed her assistant to clear her abdomen of all the blood. Chakwas was acting annoying calm to Garrus. He was feeling a distant camaraderie with Miranda who seemed just as agitated about the situation as he was. His heart still pounded, residual adrenaline putting an edge to his frustration.

Chakwas' assistant - who she called Rupert - began sealing Shepard's gunshot wound with a combination of medical webbing and medi-gel. This looked painful but a crooked smile had eased on to the commander's face, the pain medication settled into her veins. Fully relaxed, her fingers slipped from Garrus' grasp, only now alerting him they had been holding hands up until this point.

She turned to face him and said, "I said stop making that face. I'm fine." Her eyes traveled down to the bandage on his mandible. "Your face is bleeding."

"I'll live."

Chakwas approached him and gestured to a chair near Shepard. "Have a seat, Garrus. You look atrocious."

"It can wai—AH!" Chakwas had snatched the bandage from his face with surprising speed. She held it up for him to look at. It was soaked through with dark blue blood and some patches of yellow pus. The strain of their fight on Purgatory had taken a toll on his injury.

"If you leave it much longer it could fester, now _sit_," she snapped. Garrus promptly sat down. She quickly scanned his face and then went to work cleaning the wound. "What on earth happened on that ship?"

"Chaos, mostly," said Shepard, her speech slightly slurred. "Jack is…scary."

Miranda made a noise somewhere between a snort and a groan but didn't say anything. Head lolling, Shepard shot her an annoyed look. The operative was likely upset that Shepard had been all too eager to allow Jack access to Cerberus intel to get her on the Normandy.

Garrus tried his best not to vomit. Chakwas used a metal tool to scrape the dead enamel out of his mandible and dabbing the area with a strong antiseptic. His stomach churned with each pull, the subtle grinding sound ringing in his ear. A stench similar to uncooked meat accompanied her work. He wished he had been given whatever was making Shepard look so calm. The doctor finished up quickly, though, and applied a heavy coating of medi-gel. A tingling sensation replaced the pain, but he resisted touching it long enough for it to start to numb. Finally, she fitted a new bandage and stood back to look at her work.

"Still ugly," said Shepard, earning a chuckle from Rupert.

"Both of you are going to rest for the next few days, and that is a direct order." Chakwas tapped for a while on a datapad from her desk and handed it to Miranda.

"Everything looks fine. The disruptor ammo had an effect on your cybernetics, but the issues will fix themselves." She looked up at Shepard and frowned. "When you're feeling...sober, meet me in the war room to have a discussion with Jack."

After Miranda left, Shepard reached over and placed a hand on Garrus' armored shoulder. "Thanks for coming out with me. It was nice knowing you had my six again."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be in here right now," he said quietly.

She frowned and shook her head. "What'd I tell you? You couldn't have prevented this from happening, Garrus. It's my own fault for not taking cover when my shields were down."

"I could have done more."

His tone was definitive, indicating he wasn't interested in arguing with her. Her brow remained furrowed, but she didn't say anything more about it.

Chakwas instructed them both to rest in the medbay for a while, but Garrus was released before Shepard when it was clear his injury had stopped bleeding. When he stood, almost all of his muscles protested. After almost five days of limited activity aboard the ship, rushing into battle with Shepard wasn't the smartest idea. He shuffled out the door and headed back to the batteries where he collapsed on his cot, falling asleep faster than he had in weeks.

He dreamt of his crew on Omega, their bodies laid out in an even line. The tarps he had placed over them acted as little shelters and for a moment it looked as if they were only sleeping. All of their eyes were open, though. Shepard was amongst the dead, her skin burnt through to the muscle and smoking lightly, but he could tell it was her. Her corpse was smiling. The veins in her gums oozed the red light of her cybernetics.

Her jaw was moving up and down in a stuttered motion. There were words coming out of her mouth but not matching the cadence. "Can I sleep now? Can I sleep now?" She was begging him. She needed to hear him say it was okay. Her words grew louder and louder until they were making him dizzy, his vision blurred. The others were chanting as well now, demanding that he let them rest. Garrus fell to his knees. They didn't let up, their crazed imploring becoming too loud to bear.

And then, their voices broke off. Garrus' eyes peeled open. He heard someone calling his name from the other side of the door.

"Give me a second," he said back to them.

Shepard's voice hurriedly replied, "No, it's ok. I was just….I was checking on you is all. Good night."

His mind was still reeling from his dream, but Garrus slipped off his bed to get to Shepard before she left. When he reached the door, though, Shepard was rounding the corner to the elevator, shuffling as not to disturb her wound. He started to call after her, but thought better of it.

He turned back to his bed. The image of the Archangel crew and Shepard's burnt face shouting at him kept him from curling up again. Instead, he went to his console and began sending out messages and making calls. Garrus felt the sooner he got his dead comrades home, the sooner he could sleep in peace.

* * *

Bit of a shorter one this time. Thank you all for your patience!


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